Gold Digger Poem by Nicola Jane Dady

I will be the first to confess that gold digging is what I do best.
You see I dig deep into the shadiest of minds
Looking for riches all the time, sifting through dirt and dark places only to find expressionless faces and brainwashed minds with empty spaces.
Being a slave for my own kind. Searching and searching unsure if i'll find.
Working with no pay to benefit others, my voice silenced, oppressed, encapsulated, undiscovered.
Soil stained my fingers blood on their hands, sifting for jewels in an old steel pan.
I find pain in the form of depression, Items of trade become obsessions, dependants of alcohol, tobacco, legal drugs,
Addicts of self harm, no passion or love
So I dig for gold, but not the kind that shines, but the kind that will open and enrich my mind,
Yes I dig for what I believe in, to uncover the roots, and for all my labour to bathe in the fruits.
I'm not sure they exist, but I'm told they do, so when I find one myself I'll believe it true.


I'm searching for a black diamond...

Nicola dady 2012